Tales of Resistance
by Avatar of Wurms
Summary: In the wake of the fall of Mirrodin to the Phyrexians a few brave groups of survivors hold on to life and look for ways to fight back and reclaim their home.
1. Running Scared

In the Tangle, the great copper forest on the metal plane known as Mirrodin, a young elf ran through the trees. This was a common occurrence, the youth of Mirrodin's elvish tribes often played amongst the great copper trees, racing to see who could get to some arbitrary point first. Or at least, that used to be the case; since the conquering of most of the plane by the invading Phyrexians very few remained free from their tyranny, much less able to play innocent childhood games. No, the young elf ran not in the sports of children, but for her life.

Elysa panted heavily as she weaved through the trees, ducking under low hanging branches and vaulting over protruding roots. She was exhausted both physically and mentally after running for nearly three passes of the green sun. Only her fear of what pursued her kept her awake, and only small strength spells drawn from her dwindling mana reserves kept her body from collapsing. She dared not turn her head to see how close her pursuers were, nor turn her mind to anything but the path ahead. Even the slightest distraction could cause her to trip, and then they would surly catch her. So she ran, and she ran, and she ran, thinking of nothing but what was in front of her. So dedicated was she to not tripping or hitting a branch that, in the middle of her fourth pass of running, she did not notice the thinning of the trees, so when she burst out of the forest into the shimmering plains of razorgrass she took such a jolt of surprise that she almost fell. Quickly recovering, Elysa continued to run.

Toward the end of fourth pass since she had started her flight Elysa had reached her limits. Had she been in the state of mind to think about how much further she could continue to keep up her flight, she would have given herself mere minutes. But, as it was, her brain was too addled from exhaustion to form coherent thoughts on much of anything. Finally at the crest of a hill, she tumbled sideways and fell end over end toward the bottom of the hill, her uncovered arms lacerated by the aptly named grass. Upon reaching the bottom, she, by a stroke of luck, continued downward, falling into a hole concealed by long grass. Elysa slowly regained her feet and then in the almost complete darkness made her way to a wall and felt along it, in hopes of finding some way to continue moving forward. Finally she found a narrow passage and slipped into it. Before she had gone five feet, her exhaustion overtook her and she fell to the ground, resigning herself to her fate at the hand of the Phyrexians as she fell asleep. As she slept the dreams of her exhausted mind turned to the events of four passes ago…

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><p>Elysa woke up with the rise of the green sun, and turned to see her younger sister Kaysa lying peacefully in sleep on the bed next to hers. She smiled and then got up to prepare something for them to eat. As she rummaged through their small larder she hummed a tune her father had taught her and wondered when he would be back. Her family lived deep in the tangle, far away from any major elvish settlements, so when her father had left six passes ago to try find Ezuri and inform him of the hideous beasts that he had been seeing on his hunting expeditions with now disturbing regularity she had expected him to be away for a while, but it was starting to become worrying. Ezuri was known by everyone, it should be easy to find him. Or that is what her father had told her as he left, she hadn't been very far from her house since her mother had died around five years ago since her father couldn't watch both her and Kaysa as they travel through the forest and didn't feel comfortable leaving one of them alone. Elysa selected a piece of vorrac meat and took it to the kitchen table to cut it up. As she was cutting the meat with the small kitchen knife she heard something crashing through the forest. Elysa ran to the window the sound was coming from and peered down into the forest. After a few seconds she saw her father coming running out of the brush. Elysa smiled, and yelled down to him "Welcome home!" not noticing the panicked look on his face.<p>

The fear and worry in his voice , not to mention what he said, freighted her as he called back up to her, "Elysa take your sister and run. I'll hold them off as long as I can." Before she could ask him what was wrong she saw _things_ come pouring out of the bushes into the clearing below their house. The things resembled elves, with tall frames, pointed ears and copper hair, but they clearly were not. Or at least not anymore, their faces held a cruel grimace, except where they showed no emotion at all, their bodies had spines coming out of the joints, the copper on their bodies tarnished, many had bones and organs visible through their thin skin, and a feeling of taint and dread exuded from them as nexrogen from the Mephidross. Her father turned around and brought his hunting spear to bear while Elysa ran to the bed room and grabbed her sister, then proceeded to jump out the window to the forest below. Kaysa woke with a jolt and groggily asked what was happening, Elysa quickly replying to her that they needed to run.

As the sister ran into the underbrush, they heard a scream of pain behind them. Kasya's eyes went wide with shock and she asked, "Was that daddy?" Elysa cried but said nothing. And so they ran on, Elysa helping her younger sister along. Shortly though, the not-elves were close behind them and Kaysa got her first look at the beings that had killed her father in the reflection of a particularly smooth tree trunk. She screamed and tripped. Elysa carried on a few steps before managing to turn around, but it was already too late. One of the not-elves had reached her sister and was standing over her with his sword drawn; he stabbed downward crying out in a guttural roar, "By the orders of Vorinclex, Praetor of Phyrexia, and of Glissa, his chief lieutenant, the week shall not be suffered to live." The blade split Kasya's head in twain, killing her so quickly she had not the time to even scream. The not-elf then looked up at Elysa and said with an air of absolute certainty, "Your next" as more of the monsters appeared from the trees behind him. Elysa turned and ran into the forest nearly overwhelmed by the grief of losing her small family in a matter of minutes.

* * *

><p>Elysa woke with a start, rested but with renewed grief after rewatching her family's deaths. She looked around to see that she was still in the dark cave that she had fallen into; apparently the Phyrexians had been unable to find the hole. Working her way back out of the crevice into the room she had fallen into, Elysa looked up at the ceiling, which was probably twenty feet above her. Spying the entrance hole near the top, she sighed, there was no way she could make it back out. Sighing, she began to look around the room for another way to go. While she was searching she thought of what the Phyrexian elf had said about Glissa being one of them. Surely it could not be true, Glissa the Sunseeker was a hero, Elysa had always loved the stories her father had told her about her adventures. But the manner the thing that had murdered her sister had said it in…Elysa sobbed, the Phyrexians had killed her family and turned her hero. After working her way around almost the entire perimeter of the cavern, Elysa found a tunnel much wider than the crack she had fallen asleep in and decided to venture down it.<p>

After carefully walking for a decent ways in the darkness Elysa saw a faint light ahead. Rushing forward with hope that she had found an exit she was instead greeted by an expansive cavern light by a dozen or so feebly glowing mage-lights. Elysa gazed in awe at the center of the room for there stood a massive golem. It was taller than any she had ever heard of in the tales her father had told her, and its rusted iron frame held an air of dignity and power, despite the fact the Elysa could see as she drew closer, there were a few parts clearly missing, most notably the head. As she reached the iron golem and walked around it she saw a dead vedalken propped up against one its massive legs. The vedalken had died with tools in three of his hands and a sheaf of thin metal sheets with words etched onto them in the fourth. Curious, Elysa gently pried the sheets out of the vedalken's fingers and started to read them. The sheaves of metal turned out to be a journal of the progress the vedalken, his name was nowhere to be found in the sheaves, had made on fixing the broken golem. She was done shortly, and what she had read gave her hope for the first time in days. The vedalken had believed the golem to be a one of Mirrodin's first golems and had originally started repairing it in hopes of gaining knowledge about the worlds earliest days. When the Phyrexians had first appeared the vedalken had worked with renewed vigor in hopes that the golem could be of assistance in the war. Elysa began searching the cavern and soon found other notes about what was wrong with the golem and plans to fix these problems. With these in hand she began her work, think her first happy thought since her father had come home; that she might actually be able to do something to hurt the monsters that had destroyed her family.


	2. The Lord of the Vault

**AN: Despite the overwhelming lack of response to Ch1, I have finally decided to plow on ahead with this story. A special thanks goes to those two(If there was more I apologize) brave souls who put this on watch, I can't remember your names, but thank you all the same. This one's for you.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own MTG. Wow, who'd thunk it? I am merely borrowing their stuff in an attempt to make up for the tragedy(in my opinion) that was the Scars Block Novel.**

The time; sixty four passes of the Black Sun after the end of the war between the natives of Mirrodin and the Phyrexian invaders, the place; Ish Sah. Ish Sah, the Vault of Whispers, heart of the Mephidross, and site of the Black Lacuna; this towering mountain in the middle of the most forbidding part of Mirrodin's landscape strikes fear into anyone who manages to make it through the acid pits and necrogen clouds of the surrounding swamp. The mountain topped by a towering plume of the necrogen gas that converts those unlucky enough to inhale to the zombies known as Nim, who roam the surrounding swamp. One side of the otherwise conical shape of Ish Sah is besmirched by a gaping circular hole, torn open near the beginning of the world when the Black Sun burst forth from Mirrodin's core and took its place in the sky. Its dark power resonating with their own origin and its lacuna a -convenient passage from the depths of the planet where the oil began its work, Ish Sah was the first Phyrexian stronghold on the surface Mirrodin, and now it serves as a stronghold to one of its greatest generals, the great necromancer Geth.

Geth's throne room was located in the depths of Ish Sah's cavern system, its high vaulted ceiling invisible in the perpetual gloom of the dark mountain's interior. The layout of the room was fairly simple; an arched passageway that lead to the main areas of cavern system at one end, Geth's throne at the other, and along the sides smaller passageways leading to the necromancers personal rooms. The throne, a great spiky thing made of darkened bones and the twisted black metal that made up most the Mephidross, was carefully located directly above the Black Lacuna, so that its occupant might more easily draw upon the power that even now lingers there. Today a great hulking figure sat upon the throne, its head damaged by long term exposure to necrogen gas and the ravages of time and looking completely out of proportion to the rest of its massive body made of bone and metal and muscle. Today Geth sat upon his throne and pondered perhaps the most important question of his existence "Why do I not rule this world?" This had always been the necromancer's ambition, the domination of Mirrodin, seeing its populace subjected beneath his fist. Now he was perhaps the closest he had ever been, but in some ways he was at the same time the furthest. Because now Geth, for the first time in his life and death, was not his own master, he worked for the Phyrexians.

It had seemed a good idea at the time, during the conflict with Memnarch he had been reduced to a mere head, only his great skill at necromancy keeping him functioning. When the final confrontation with the then ruler of Mirrodin took place deep in the bowls of the world Geth had been there, and after it was resolved he had been left there. Then one pass (he didn't know how many it had taken, with no access to the sky Geth had quickly lost track of time) the strange creatures he later learned were called Phyrexians had come across him, recognized his unmatched skill at his craft, and offered to construct him a new body in return for his aid in their goal of conquering Mirrodin and converting it to something more suitable for them. He immediately agreed, thinking that once he had a body again it would be simple to seek out their hidden leaders, the Praetor's, defeat them, and claim their forces for his own.

Hold on, he hadn't even tried to do that, why hadn't he tried to do that? Why hadn't he even realized this flaw in his immaculate planning and stratagems before now? What was wrong with him?

After constructing him his new body, a far more powerful one than his old human frame, Geth turned his attention to the war and to making sure that those who dwelled on the surface of Mirrodin once again feared and reviled the name of the Lord of the Vault.

Wait a minute; hadn't he just been trying to figure out why he had never tried usurping the Praetors after he had received his new body? When did he go back to reminiscing over his campaign of terror? As good a job as he had done at that, it was by no means something that should distract him from a recent recollection of a lack of action so against his nature. To go along with a bargain, not even looking for a way to make it so that only he got what he wanted out of it? And then to forget such a thing! Geth grimaced; there was something wrong with him, something very wrong.

And the war had gone well for the most part, the occasional set back of course, but…

What was he doing?! Why did his mind keep drifting off topic like this? It was almost as if… oh but they wouldn't have. But no, it was clear by this point, someone had been messing with his mind. And by someone, Geth meant the Phyrexians. So they had thought to keep him on a leash had they? Well now that he knew about the psychic conditioning or whatever it was they had done to him, Geth felt confident that he could fight it and win.

And now that the war was over…

NO! His thoughts would not be turned from this! He was going to find out what else they had made him forget and then he was going to make them pay. Carefully of course, no need to spoil the advantage that they still thought they had his ambition neutered.

To begin, what exactly had they done to him? Geth began to sift mana through himself, seeing where it caught onto preexisting enchantments and spells. It was a costly but efficient way to detect magic, but Geth was in the middle of his fortress and had power to spare. Soon he found the spell affecting his thoughts, it was a clever piece of magic, designed to make the target think about something else that it made sense for them to be thinking of whenever their thoughts approached predefined topics, and then to bury the memories of ever having considered the offending thoughts. Moreover, since it didn't actually remove memories, just bury them; it would be much harder to notice that something was gone, since in truth it wasn't. Geth grinned; he was going to have fun using this spell later. Finding the spell had been simple enough, but removing it would be tricky. It was likely that one of the topics that activated the spell was considering a manner to remove it. Fortunately it looked like there was a delay between thinking about a forbidden topic and the spell kicking in so that if the mind wandered away from the topic on its own the spell wouldn't have to expend any power. This gave Geth time to act. He considered his advantages: he knew what would be coming and could steel himself against it beforehand, and while necromancy was his specialty he was still well versed in other aspects of using black mana, memory manipulation among them. Usefull, but more knowledge on the structure of the spell would be prudent before an attempt at removal. Geth analyzed the spell more carefully, careful to not dwell on plans to remove it just yet ; it was mainly protected by its very nature of being hard to think about; the actual spell wasn't overly robust. This made sense because its imprint on the mind needed to be light enough that it wouldn't be noticed by the passive senses of the victim.

Geth poured mana into himself, targeting the areas of his brain the forgetfulness spell was tied to. His task was made harder when the spell started to try and make him forget what he was doing. He had seen this coming though and had prepared for it. The spell battered back against the walls of his will strengthened by the influx of power, but to no avail. Soon the mana he continued to poor through his brain overloaded the forgetfulness spell. Geth was now free from its grasp. He turned his mind to trying to discover what else he had been forced to forget.

To begin with, what had actually happened that fateful pass when the Phyrexians had found him? Geth having lived or at the least existed for a long time and had found it prudent to develop methods to replay memories. He used one of them now, and to his surprise the proper phrase should have been when the Phyrexians had found _them_. Because Geth hadn't been alone then, he hadn't been abandoned down in the depths of Mirrodin as he had falsely thought; he had been with Glissa, his compatriot in the fight against that insane construct that called itself Memnarch. They had been walking through (well Glissa had been walking, Geth was being carried) some tunnels, looking for a source of water. Suddenly creatures that Geth could now identify as Phyrexians rushed toward them from around a bend. Geth and Glissa had fought well, Glissa using a sword to parry the Phyrexians' talons and filet them, and Geth had managed to gain control of one of the more undead member of the opposition and turn it against its fellows. But the Phyrexians kept coming. As the duo became exhausted Glissa shouted out "Run, get yourself to safety!"

Geth frowned, who had Glissa been yelling to? It couldn't have been him; by the black sun she had been carrying him! So there had been someone else. Why couldn't he remember? Maybe it was a lingering effect of the forgetfulness spell, a memory buried so many times that even with the spell gone it would take time to resurface? Geth decided to return to this later, for now he needed to know what had happened after they lost. He plunged back into his memories.

There wasn't much left of the fight. Geth had been ripped from Glissa's grasp and his magic stifled by an enemy mage. Glissa had been killed, impaled on one of the Phyrexians needle like appendages. That meant...Geth skipped ahead. There it was. Geth, his memories now at a point after he had received his new body, watched has the Phyrexians raised Glissa as a twisted undead monster, and she in turn pledged her eternal loyalty to their cause. Geth fumed; Glissa, with the possible exception of that other person he couldn't remember right now, was the only individual Geth had ever respected. He had admired her perseverance, her skill, her courage, and of course her looks. To see her this way, twisted and forced into serving a cause she never would have in life made him furious. He was the only one with that right to do that to her, because he was the only one who could understand what breaking her will truly meant. To see the Phyrexians subvert her, merely because she would be useful to them angered him now that he was free of their spell and able think clearly. What had the spell made him think then, that she had _wanted _this? The idea was laughable now that he was thinking straight, Glissa had fought to free Mirrodin from Memnarch, she would have never given it over to another conquer.

Geth broke out of his recollections, he had spent enough time remembering this pass, it was time to get to work on planning his overthrow of the Phyrexians; for what they had done to Glissa, for what they had done to him, and most importantly because they stood between him and ruling the world.

Elsewhere:

The caverns were pitch black and the Bearer was tired. An all too frequent state of things. The Bearer wouldn't make light and wouldn't stop moving, ever fearing discovery. No matter; the time for running and hiding was soon to end, and then it would be the time for doing_. _It so missed doing.

**AN: And there we go. Our second main character, and this time not an OC(rejoicing!). Next time will be the introduction of the third of five groups/individuals that the story will focus on. Although I might put group/individual #4 into their own story. Time will tell, and I will tell you in an Authors Note if that does happen.**


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